Up the mountain, the third building.
Unless Mrs. Tracy had lied about the address, Fu Qian was sure he had found where she lived.
Yet the place was dark as a ghostly den, without the slightest sign of life.
It was certainly exquisite. Though small at a glance, it radiated wealth, and its position and view were beyond reproach.
But if Mrs. Tracy had not lied earlier, the scene before him was rather strange.
Her not running into the woman with the hairpin could still be explained by her moving too quickly, or too cautiously, using her familiarity with the place to avoid her.
But after reaching home, was she still so uneasy that she did not even dare turn on the lights?
That explanation was a little too abstract.
Or had she calmed down and grown increasingly regretful about telling him her address, to the point that she simply did not dare come back?
The exclusive area was not large, with only five small buildings in total.
Even through pure trial and error, it would not take long to find Tracy's male companion's residence.
So from the start, Fu Qian had not planned to hurry over and disturb Tracy.
Yet when he reached the vicinity of her residence, he did not continue onward. Instead, he turned inside and climbed the steps.
Why rely on trial and error when correction was more efficient? He could just ask Mrs. Tracy directly.
The only slight regret was that he probably should not return the brooch to her too soon—
The next moment, Fu Qian stopped before the tightly locked door and raised a hand to knock.
What was that saying again? When a man named Fu came knocking?
Darkness always liberated the imagination. At that moment, Fu Qian felt no awareness